


What Happens in Fillory Stays in Fillory

by EmeryldLuk



Category: The Magicians (TV), The Magicians - Lev Grossman
Genre: Alternate Universe, It Gets Better, No clue where I'm going with this, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Other, Plot Bunny, Probability discipline, getting lucky, neon pink hair, physic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-10 14:13:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17427452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeryldLuk/pseuds/EmeryldLuk
Summary: Quentin Coldwater is on a mission to kill The Beast when he learns that someone new ended up at Brakebills instead of Julia Winters, and she is not what he expected. Ember Yule prefers to avoid distractions, but she can't help but interfere in the end.





	What Happens in Fillory Stays in Fillory

Quentin Coldwater wanted nothing more than to throttle Dean Fog. Thirty-nine lifetimes of dying bloody would never be enough for how much he hated the words he had just heard.

"You have got to be kidding me."

"I am not. I can not." Fog folded his hands on the desk. "Julia originally gets into Brakebills, but in a hope to jumpstart her power, Jane wanted to change that."

"Dick."

"We do what we must, Quentin."

"Anything else I should know about? Like, bugs in the furnace, or A key."

Fog might have been laughing if he didn't seem made of stone. "No, there are no bugs in the furnace. In fact the only other thing to change in this timeline is the students."

"Students, plural?" Quentin edged forward in his seat.

Fog's face worked as if he was trying to hold back. "There was an anomaly this time around with the exams. Not including Julia, of course."

"Who?"

"A girl named Ember Yule."

Quentin almost choked on a laugh. "Ember Yule?"

"Yes, laugh it up, make fun of a random stranger."

"Sorry, no. It's just one of the gods of Fillory is named Ember. So, this girl wasn't in the last thirty-nine tries?"

"Not once. She is a very talented Probability magician. I believe that is why she only showed up in this time loop."

"Where did she come from?"

"No idea. She literally wrote Nunsyabesnis on her forms. I know she was living in St. Paul, MN when she came to Brakebills."

"Great. So, great. You know what, I hate you right now." Quentin pushed to his feet.

"One thing before you go. Be careful. Probability magic is, well, difficult."

Quentin rolled his eyes and left, leaving the office door wide open.

Upon leaving the office, Quentin asked around to find out that Ember was one of the Psychic Students, and that he could find her in her room. 

 

Quentin hesitated at the door with the swiveling blue eyeball instead of a peephole. The eyeball spun once and then focused on him. He winced and raised his hand.

The door jerked open so fast, Quentin almost fell over. He caught himself on the doorjamb as a petite girl with neon pink hair looked up at him with a bland expression.

"The answer is No."

"What?"

"You were going to ask me for my help. For whatever nonsense. No. I don't help people with death wishes."

He gaped, struck by the vivid color of her eyes.

She blinked once. "Either say it or leave."

"I, uh, I just wanted to talk. How did you even know?"

"The probability of someone knocking on my door for any reason other than needing help is slimmer than none." She looked around the corner. "Well, you might as well come in. Get out of my hair faster."

She eased the door open, swept her voluminous pink hair out of her face, and moved to sit on her desk. Quentin couldn't help but stare, for she swayed with every step and didn't even look to where she walked. Her eyes glazed over stacks of borrowed books and movie posters. She wore a red blouse with no back except for a little bit of lacing around her middle and neck. Black leggings fit under a short jean skirt.

"Um, so you do probability magic?"

"It's not all magic. Logic, Science, Math. Anyway, you were going to ask for help."

Quentin stepped into her room. "Have you heard of Fillory?"

"What do you think I am, stupid? I've known about the existence of Fillory for years."

"You have?"

"Once get into probability spells, not much is too far-fetched. However, I have never gone."

"Well, would you want to?"

"I dunno, might be nice." She tilted her head. "Do you?"

"More than anything else. In fact, I was on my there with my friends when we got split up. I'm looking for a new way."

"And you came to me."

"Honestly, you were closer than my other option."

"Then," she slid off her desk with a small smile, "you best find that other option."

"Can you at least tell me if it's possible to get to Fillory?"

"Course, it's probable," She answered with a sigh. "Ask me something a little more specific."

"Okay, so my friends and I did a probability spell before heading to Fillory to see what would work, Is that something you can do for me?"

"Not unless you want to know what people might have for breakfast. Look, I don't help people looking to be a hero."

"You're still talking to me."

"Because you're more likely to leave me alone if I talk to you." She made a face. "What are you, a cockroach?"

Quentin dragged Book One out of his bag. "Okay, so, my friends and I were doing research and figured out The Beast is from Fillory-"

"The what?"

"The Beast. You know the guy with all the moths that killed our teacher and stole Dean Fog's eyes."

"Right. I was in town that day to find a book. But I heard about it. So, you found it and?"

"And we need to kill it. We have a plan for it, but we could use more help."

She looked away, her eyes unfocused again. She raised a hand, one finger in the air, as he opened his mouth to continue.

"Sorry, I miscalculated. It's not that you have a death wish, but that you are an I.D.I.O.T."

"Excuse me?"

Instead of answering, she turned away.

"My answer remains. You don't care about  me, just the magic I might be able to provide."

 "Um, well-"

"No, out. Out. Out!"

Quentin stumbled as the girl with pink hair unceremoniously ushered him out of her room.

"Wait!" he pleaded to a closing door. "Ember!"

**Author's Note:**

> No idea what I'm doing with this yet, besides messing with plot, but I welcome comments and suggestions. Also if you like my writing, feel free to check out my other works, and follow me on twitter @EmeryldL


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